


Million Reasons

by agoodwoman



Series: Instinct Over Reason [11]
Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M, Gillovny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodwoman/pseuds/agoodwoman
Summary: After Chicago Comic Con, things were strained between them. A quiet respite to Vancouver to clear her head and she found a million reasons to end things between them.Set in the fall of 2016.





	

They hadn’t exchanged any kind of communication in three weeks. That kind of radio silence from both their ends wasn’t normal. It had been a month since they last saw one another. They were both busy with personal projects, the kids’ school would be starting and books were being finalized before publishing.

She took a respite in Vancouver, BC because sometimes when she felt like everything familiar was too uncomfortable, she needed to be on the other side of the world where the accents were soft to her ear and the money was colourful like a board game. Don’t tell them that. They just cite their amazing health care and handsome prime minister. Also, the weed wasn’t bad.

Admittedly, this place had a piece of her heart not just because her daughter was born there. It felt like a home she liked to visit. It felt familiar. The rain was bone chilling and she could layer up to soothe the jittering nerves that cried out for a warm fire.

In this day and age, it wasn’t a log fire she could warm herself by but the gas stove did the trick. She pulled a cashmere blanket from the back of her armchair and sipped the Earl Grey tea in her mug.

Nelson huffed from his blanket in front of the fire and she opened her book to the last page she dog-eared. The slow sounds of Band of Horses played over the stereo and she tried to bury herself further into the cushions of the chair. If she could just disappear, she might actually feel happy.

Another chapter of The Kite Runner absorbed into her and she felt the calming written word of Khaled Hosseini take her mind off everything that burdened her when she left London. Reading a book again was like rewatching a favoured movie. It soothed her, calmed her and she could anticipate what was coming. The rest of her life felt more up in the air than her frayed nerves could take.

A sip of her tea revealed the liquid had grown too cold for her tastes and she reluctantly left her chair to put on another kettle.

The cupboard lights of the kitchen left enough illumination for her to maneuver around the recently remodelled space. The granite countertop felt cool under her hands and she tucked her fingers back inside the blanket cloaked around her shoulders as the water slowly came to a boil.

Beyond her kitchen sink, she looked out the window into the darkness. All she could see was rain against the glass and the bushes that appeared not to be trimmed the way she had asked. Just another thing she would need to take care of in the morning.

Tomorrow had a lot of unpleasant conversations coming. She would need to call him and sort this out. She spent so much of her younger years unsure of where they stood. There was so much time spent not knowing what to do and too often, big decisions had been left up to other people. By the time she came to making ones for herself, she seemed to choose the wrong person to confide in, the wrong lover to take to bed and the wrong man to marry.

At least she had learned at this point in her life that to regret those choices was to state she wasn’t happy now. She wouldn’t change a thing.

Three children, a list of work she was proud of and the freedom to say no when she felt something didn’t work. Any regret she held onto would have been to be easier on herself when she was punishing her body for every poor choice.

Just then, beyond the hedge she was cursing, a figure rustled the leaves and approached her window.

She shut the kettle off before it screamed its finale and took a few steps back from the counter. Glancing over to her mobile on the counter, she looked back to see the figure gone.

If she called the police and it was nothing, she was just another actress who had a case of anxiety and too much self-importance to shoo away a raccoon.

“Right,” she said out loud and mustered the courage to take the giant broom at the mudroom entrance to appear bigger than she was.

She let out a long breath through her pursed lips and picked up the wooden handle. The blanket fell to the floor as the straw strands made a small noise against her slippers and it tickled the back of her neck. This was her fight-or-flight response coming on. This was her body signalling she wasn’t alone.

The back door light came on and she lifted the broom to swing at the figure. It wasn’t a raccoon. It was a man.

“Jesus!” he called out and caught the broom before it made contact with his face.

“David?”

He stepped under the light and she stepped back. The hood of his jacket and the ball cap might have hid him from a polite citizen not wanting to confirm his identity but she knew that profile anywhere.

“What are you doing?”

He put his fingers on her stomach to push her back slightly and he pulled the hood down. “I knocked but there was no answer.”

Gillian looked off into the distance to try to recall if she heard the door. Nelson hadn’t moved from his spot on the carpet but generally speaking, he was a terrible guard dog.

“When?”

“Five minutes ago?” he asked as he grabbed a clean towel out of the basket on her washing machine. “May I?”

She waved her hand to allow him the freedom to clean himself off and watched as he hung his North Face shell and hat above the wet mat where his shoes were now drying.

“What are you doing here?” she asked and tried to keep the acerbic tone at bay.

It wasn’t easy to do so since she was more annoyed with him than pleased.

“I missed you,” he said. “You didn’t email or call.”

“Neither did you,” she pointed out.

“I did,” he said honestly and she tried to see in his wild green eyes if he was lying. “I did.”

“Where did you call?” she asked.

“Are you going to let me come in or do I have to defend myself in your laundry room?”

She glanced down at the bag at his feet. “What’s that for?”

“Change of clothes. I’m in town for a few days,” he replied honestly.

She turned on her heel and went back to her tea. The kettle switched on again and she picked up the blanket from the floor to throw it over a kitchen chair.

“Why do you choose to spend time in places you know you’ll be cold in?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Bora Bora was all booked up?”

“No, really,” he insisted as he followed her into the kitchen. He placed the used towel on her counter next to the mug of tea that had grown cold. “Earl Grey?”

She felt a pang of anger toward him for knowing her so well. She used to like that about them. Now, she wanted him out of her head, her body and her bed.

Nelson came trotting into the kitchen to sniff David’s pants, wait to be pet and fawned over before snorting at the disturbance and going back to his place in front of the fire. He would be no help tonight in kicking David out.

“It was supposed to be a family trip,” she replied and picked up the towel to fold it into thirds length-wise before folding it in half. She caught the smirk on his face. “What?”

“You just have to get everything into its little box, don’t you?” he noted as he ran his hand down her arm. His palm felt hot on her skin even with the barrier of the grey wool. “Didn’t you miss me?”

She looked up into his eyes to see a worry there she didn’t normally see. He was usually so cavalier and nonchalant. He was less glib and arrogant these days than he had been but he rarely made grand professions of his love unless they were tangled in bed together.

Occasionally they asked where things were going, they admitted their feelings weren’t just of friendship and carnal pleasures but they wound up in bed together before defined lines were ever set.

This had been going on for over twenty-three years and she was tired of her feelings being hurt from of a misunderstanding because nothing was solid or public. Sometimes the feelings were his. Sometimes he acted jealous or frustrated because she behaved in a way that made him question the exclusivity they had vowed three years ago.

“Gill,” he started and she shook her head. “Not at all?”

She sighed. “No.”

He leant in closer to her and she was overwhelmed with just his proximity. “Liar.”

His mouth met hers and she instinctively parted her lips to allow his tongue to enter. He tasted sweet and salty like caramel popcorn. He satisfied every urge and each craving.

A whimper escaped her throat and he had her pushed against the counter with on hand in her air as the other was lifting her leg and grabbing her ass. He knew how to completely envelop her into a whirlwind of sex. It started out with a kiss as it always did. He would have her in three different ways and the texts and emails would be frequent until the next time he went radio silent.

The kiss grew more fervent and she felt a familiar hardness push against her in just the right place. The way he made her feel wasn’t like other people. He made her feel sexy and desirable in a way that she revelled in. His kisses were addictive.

She mewled again but this time she pushed him off her. He stepped back and let her leg drop to the ground softly. The desire for her was evident in his jeans and she tried not to look but he had been pushed into her so eagerly just now.

“What?” he asked as he wiped at the edge of his mouth.

“We can’t keep doing this, David,” she insisted as she touched her lips softly.

He shook his head. “We’re not doing anything we haven’t-”

“No,” she replied. “This sneaking around. This less complicated thing we said was so easy. It’s not been easy like we said it would be.”

“Thank you for saying we instead of you,” he noted and she shrugged. “I’m serious. We both said this unofficial exclusive thing would be easy and a breeze and I’m glad you didn’t pile the blame for your feelings just on me.”

She could feel herself frowning and staring at him with disappointment but she couldn’t help it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he admonished her and she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t look at me like I just told you I’m getting married or something.”

“I’ve met someone,” she reminded him as she crossed the kitchen to wash her mug.

Tea would be a forgotten quest that evening. She could feel his eyes on her as she carefully washed the remnants of the brew off her deep blue paisley patterned tea cup.

“You meet a lot of someone’s,” he shrugged.

“I _like_ him,” she stated in a tone that told the man watching her she wasn’t so sure their affair was such a good idea anymore.

More recently, she began to qualify it as an affair because the term ‘relationship’ had more boundaries and respect. That hurt her feelings to acknowledge that but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Same guy from L.A.?” he asked and she nodded slightly. “Then, good luck with that.”

He took the mug from her hand and placed it on the drying rack adjacent to the sink. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and he began to lead her toward the stairs and up to her room.

“Where do you think we’re going?” she asked but her feet kept moving.

“I’m taking you to bed, Gillian,” he said matter of factly. “You meet people. You like people. That’s _okay_. I’ve met a few I’ve liked too.”

She tried not to react because he had told her this was exclusive. They hadn’t been so good with that promise either. They were bad at keeping promises to one another. To stop after one night together, to be respectful of each other’s relationships and marriages, to keep sex out of their friendship since they were both happy with other people. The list could go on. They broke each promise that meant the romantic entanglements of their relationship would cease and desist.

“Not recently,” he told her and she nodded. “I don’t see how we should act differently from when we were married. You just met the guy.”

“I’ve known him for ten years,” she corrected him and he shrugged as though it was the same difference. “When does it matter how long I’ve known someone?”

“If they can supersede our twenty-three years, I’ll step aside,” he replied. “Why did you say you met him when you actually met him a decade ago?”

“Because the relationship has shifted between us,” she explained.

“Have we changed at all?” he asked and she shook her head. “So, what’s stopping us? Do you love me?”

It wasn’t fair. No one could know her in this way like he did. She was angry at herself for understanding his reasoning and for the feelings inside her to push her toward him and away from everyone else.

“Do you want this?” he asked and he kissed her cheek softly.

Her eyes saw in his the worry again. “I always do.”

“And?”

“I love you,” she assured him.

Their love was a friendship based organism that had grown out of lust, animosity and a long history. She didn’t know any other way to describe it except once he related it to the roots of a tree, intertwined and growing. She thought it was beautiful then but they weren’t sleeping together at the time when he said it.

On second thought, maybe they were sleeping together.

“Then come to bed,” he insisted as though that was the only argument he would need right then.

She conceded his point and she knew things wouldn’t change. She liked the man in front of her too much to change how she behaved in a relationship with someone else.

As he kissed her at the base of the stairs, she felt her whole body surrender into the feeling of him. It was too easy to do this. She liked the road less travelled too often and with him, it made sense as much as it didn’t.

He pushed her body into the wall and his warm fingers snaked up her belly to her bare breasts under her sweater.

“It’s like you knew I would be here,” he whispered as his hands cupped her. His mouth began its territorial nipping and biting along her collarbone. “Did you know?”

“I had no idea,” she said in a hushed tone and she moaned when his mouth reached that one spot that made her knees grow weak.

His thumbs gently rubbed each nipple and she felt her centre grow wet. He kissed her neck again and she moaned louder this time.

“Do we have to be quiet right now?” he asked as he pushed his desire against her.

She shook her head. Everyone was gone for the time being but she couldn’t speak the words they were alone. Her mouth was too busy seeking his and searching for another kiss.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded and he obliged.

His tongue knew how to work against hers. She felt a sadness when his hands left her breasts but delighted when his arms lifted her up with ease. He had her back against the wall with picture frames on either side of her head. He found a way to fit her in as he ground himself against her and she moaned punctuated each thrust.

They were dry humping and kissing each other like rabid teenagers with no semblance of control. She cursed the layers between them as he pushed his jeans into her. Sparks of pleasure rushed through her and she imagined the silk night pants she had on were probably soaked to the touch.

It wasn’t embarrassing when he wanted her just as much.

“I need to be inside of you,” he growled and he turned them slightly to let her down.

As she turned toward the stairs, he pulled on her waist. His actions brought her back toward him and his hand slipped down the front of her silky bottoms.

“You’re so wet already,” he said in awe as his middle digit pushed past her swollen folds to find her throbbing clit.

Her fingers dug into his arms as he held her breast in one hand and his other played her like a string instrument. He circled the bundle of nerves at her centre and she whimpered. He made his movements more resolved and intent and she cried out. His breath was hot on her ear and his cock was grinding against her backside.

How did she go from anger and sorrow to this so quickly? Why were these things so closely related when it came to their desires?

He unleashed in her a passion that resided deep down inside. He found a way to tap into her wanton nature and expose every naughty thought she had. He found the spots inside of her that no one had touched. He let her see the sides of him that she adored and wanted to protect. He opened himself up so she felt there was a deep trust and friendship. He was there was things were terrible for her.

If she had to admit she loved him as more than a friend does, she wouldn’t tell him to his face.

“You’re getting close aren’t you?” he guessed as his finger began to move faster. “You’re getting so swollen.”

His long index finger brushed along her swollen seam and she made a guttural noise from deep in her throat. His hand left her breast and she heard the familiar movement from his zipper. He was planning to fuck her on the stairs right there.

“No,” she moaned as she turned around to face him.

He had his dick in hand and he stroked himself. “No?”

“Upstairs,” she insisted. “In a bed at least.”

“I’m not putting this back away,” he said teasingly. “Your bugs on the wall will have to accept that it’s out.”

Gillian looked up to the giant scarab beetle that was mounted in a frame on her stairwell. “That’s Lloyd.”

“Why does everything in your house have to have a name?” he asked as they began their ascent.

“I didn’t name it,” she replied indignantly as they passed the deep blue and metallic coloured bug.

“Who did?” David challenged and waited on the landing for her to answer. “ _Who_ named it Lloyd?”

Gillian sighed. “I did.”

He shook his head at her and took her hand. “You’re so weird.”

“You’re the one jerking it on my stairs in front of Lloyd,” she countered as she passed him. “That’s pretty weird.”

“Touché,” he replied and followed her the rest of the way.

At the top of the stairs and at the very end of the hall over the kitchen area was the master suite. It had double doors to open into an opulent sitting room, a king sized bed he would be sure to tease her about attempting to get up on and a view that overlooked the city scape and the water. It felt like a safe space when she had finished decorating it. The room gave her a sense of calming and she appreciated the water being only a stone’s throw from her balcony.

His jeans and sweater landed on the chair adjacent to the bed. The sound of his boxers hitting the floor caused her to turn around. He stood next to his socks and underwear and approached her slowly. His fingers pulled the hem of her sweater up and over her head. She allowed him to undress her as her pants and underwear joined his on the chair.

To stand naked in front of one another as they were longing for each other’s touch with their finger tips touching was arousing. She pushed her palm against his and brought his hand up so his fingers were toward the ceiling. Their fingers intertwined and he tangled their arms at her back.

“Will you tell me something,” he implored and kissed each cheek in that sweet way he could be that put her at ease. His cock was pressed into her belly and the bone-chilling cold she felt on her body earlier had gone. “Will you?”

“What?” she asked after a beat.

“Will you tell me when I’m not welcome in your bed anymore?” he asked.

She shook her head with a sad chuckle and pushed her forehead into his bare chest. “We’re too far gone for that.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know if there was ever a time I didn’t want you,” she replied. “Even when I said I didn’t.”

“It’s a little unfair, isn’t it?” he noted with his own laugh and she nodded. “I don’t know how to not want you like this and be your friend. And I can’t stop being your friend.”

“That’s exactly it,” she agreed.

“So what about this man you like?” he asked as his mouth moved lower on her body. He kept her hands at her back while the kisses on her neck and collarbone began to excite again. “What about him if we’re still friends?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly as she allowed the seduction to continue. “What we’re doing… It’s not fair to him once the exclusive conversation comes up.”

David stood up straight and she mourned the loss of his mouth on her. “Just don’t let it.”

She sighed. “He’s not even divorced yet.”

“I was about to lose sleep over a guy who was _separated_?” he replied and he walked her back toward the bed. “Okay well, talk to me when he’s divorced.”

She stood at the edge of her bed with the crisp lavender duvet and cream pillows and stopped him from lifting her up. “Talk to you when he’s divorced? Like you think he won’t?”

David sighed and put his hands on his hips. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Gill.”

“Just for a good time,” she muttered.

He held his hands up defensively. “I _missed_ you. I made the grand gesture of coming here to see you. I’m making an effort and you’re picking a fight.”

She looked down between them to see his swollen cock twitch under her gaze. She couldn’t help herself. She reached out to stroke him. “It didn’t kill the mood for you, apparently.”

His eyes closed as she moved her hand slowly up and down his shaft. She felt herself smile and his hand reached out to her breast.

“Does that make you feel better?” she asked with a smile.

His hand squeezed as she moved her thumb up to the head of his member and swirled it across the fluid that dripped out.

“A little,” he admitted. His lids opened and she saw the devotion and yearning in his eyes. “A lot, actually.”

“I appreciate your grand gesture,” she told him earnestly. “I don’t like the lack of contact.”

“I’m at your beck and call,” he promised.

“I used to think I was your beck and call-girl,” she retorted.

“Five times a year isn’t working for you anymore?” he teased as his hands travelled down her waist to her hips.

She shook her head at him. “I never understood why you wanted to tell people that.”

His hands gripped her waist and he deposited her onto the bed. She watched as the muscles across his chest flexed and relaxed. As she moved her bottom back toward the middle of the bed, he climbed on toward her.

“What does someone your size need a bed this tall?” he teased as he crawled after her.

She put a hand on his chest when they were inches apart and pushed him onto his back. “Room for _activities_.”

He turned his head to watch her as she approached him on all fours. “I don’t think this kind of action was what that line had in mind.”

She sat across his torso and he looked down his chest to her sex. “Are you appreciating the view?”

“You honestly have no idea how great it is to be a man,” he said as his hand travelled up her thighs to her sex.

She shook her head with a knowing smile. “I think I have some idea.”

His thumb found her clit and he used her arousal to try to build her excitement. It felt amazing. There was something so much more satisfying about having his hands touch her and frenzy her to a release. His hands indulged her every need and stoked the fire she tried to heed in his absence.

It took willpower to stop him but she managed to stop his hand from giving her the release then. She wanted him to put his money where his mouth was, literally. Maybe it was vice versa in this instance.

“Does your L.A. friend know about that side of you?” he asked as she moved further up his torso.

She settled on his chest with her knees on either side of his head. “You need to stop talking.”

“Give my mouth something better to do,” he countered and she obliged.

In a slick move of her hips, she moved her sex to his face and lowered herself in line with his mouth. One hand gripped the headboard of the bed as the other held the breast he had just been palming. She moved her body across his mouth as he lapped at her folds and found her bundle of nerves. While moving her hips in circular motions, his hands grasped at her thighs and his thumbs pulled her sex open wider to his mouth.

She made a noise above him and he pushed his tongue more firmly into her clit.

“Oh! Jesus!” she cried out.

His left hand moved around her backside and as his tongue worked her from below, a long skilled finger entered her tight walls from behind. It was sensory overload and they were just getting started. She felt her thighs starting to quiver from the exertion.

This was the kind of work out that yoga didn’t prepare her for unless she was thinking of the private Malibu studio in his possession. It was the same place they said they were going to go over a script for an upcoming movie but she found herself panting on the studio floor with script pages stuck to her skin.

Thinking about other ways he fucked her as he fucked her was more arousing than she anticipated. Her hips continued to gyrate in motion above him and he flattened his tongue at the exact moment she needed him to.

“Oh god!”

The nerve endings inside her expanded as the waves of pleasure began to spread through her body. She felt her sex contract as the rush took over. Her hands gripped the headboard and she cried out again as the agony of her ecstasy took over.

When she felt her body calm, she felt him move from underneath her. She sat on her heels and pushed her face into the crook of her arm.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he kissed up her back. The stubble on his cheeks was tickling as it was arousing her. “Less mad?”

She looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow as his hands ran up her torso to her breasts. His mouth kissed and nipped at her skin. Whatever arguments they were going to have later would be set aside until their bodies exhausted each other.

“Less mad is a way to describe it,” she agreed as she turned more towards him.

He took her body in his hands and flipped her over onto her back to land on the soft mattress. He was good at manipulating her body to how he wanted it. The boxing and yoga had been beneficial for more than just an aesthetic she appreciated.

She pressed her head into the duvet as he picked up her leg and kissed up the length of her calf. The prickly stubble scratched along her inner thighs and she felt a sharp prick when he sunk his teeth into the flesh next to her sex. His tongue soothed each spot he nipped at and he rubbed his face along her skin, creating a red hue in its wake.

His mouth moved up to the P tattooed on her hipline and he kissed next to the incision from her cesareans. He was tender as he was rough. His palms covered her breasts as he moved up her body and she felt the weight of his desire brush against her thigh.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered.

He took his hardened flesh in his hand and stroked up and down. Watching him touch himself in that way did something to her. She felt like a voyeur to something he did in private. He closed his eyes briefly as he gripped the base of his member and she watched his hand squeeze slightly.

His hand left his cock and laid flat on her belly. He moved it slowly toward her thighs and his thumb moved deliberately down her swollen folds.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her as he moved up her body.

When he told her she was beautiful, she believed him just as much as she believed everything else he told her about herself. Sometimes it could mean she was horrible or being a controlling bitch. Those were some of the reasons she had been contemplating ceasing the sexual side of her friendship.

Over the last three years, he had never set out to intentionally hurt her. Not like their previous affairs when she could read every negative thought he had about her in the press only days after going down on her in her trailer.

“Where did you go?” he asked as he settled himself on top of her.

“I was just thinking how fucked up we’ve been in the past,” she told him.

He pressed his face into her neck. “One of us was a _sublime_ asshole.”

She ran her hands up his back. “Yeah, sorry about all those shitty things I used to say to the press about you.”

“Your ego really got to be too inflated,” he teased as he went along with the idea that she was the one who caused so much turmoil between them. “I was just trying to survive.”

“Did you?” she asked as he positioned himself at her entrance.

He pushed inside her in one slow thrust. “Barely.”

As much as he hurt her, as much as she drove him crazy and for all the other million reasons they had not to be together, she couldn’t quit this. He understood too much, he had her secrets and she held his.

His mouth was kissing along her breasts as his hips rocked against her. She felt his teeth marking her as he pulled out and pushed back in. Somehow he knew how to completely overtake her body and she welcomed the surrender.

As his hips began a slow and steady pace, she felt herself swell. Her body was still wound tight from her orgasm while feeling relaxed and ready to fall into the fissure of relief in euphoria again.

Just when her body was feeling used to his rhythm, he moved his body upright and reached between them to work the small bundle of nerves at her core. She could feel her arousal growing as the wetness at her core augmented to become audible.

“You’re so wet,” he noted as he used the fluid from her sex to spread over her clit. He took his thumb to his mouth and tasted her. “God, you taste good.”

She put her hand between them and touched herself. She watched him as he watched her and he grunted when one hand moved to her aching breast.

“Watch me,” she instructed him.

He nodded and rocked his hips again for another quick thrust. “Fuck, I can feel you getting tighter.”

Her back arched off the bed as the intensity of her pleasure reached its peak and she felt herself tumble over the edge into the abyss. Her body felt like it was on fire as the rush of her release took over and it moved from her centre through her body. The way he moved inside of her felt like a hot knife cutting butter and she was happy to melt into the experience.

As her composure regained, she felt him twitching inside.

“No?”

“I didn’t come all this way to just come right away,” he smirked.

She pulled her hips away from him and he slipped out of her slowly. She pointed to the headboard with her index finger. “Sit over there.”

Happy to oblige, he moved toward the head of the bed and watched as she climbed on his lap. They watched as his glistening cock disappeared inside her body and they sighed in unison when he was buried to the hilt.

“So good,” she breathed.

“If you’re adding a million reasons to stop this between us, this has to count for at least five hundred thousand reasons to continue,” he said quietly.

The aftermath of their love making or fucking or sex or whatever they classified it as usually left these questions in the air. They always made promises to each other in bed, in doorways, against the wall or on a table. These vows made sense until their busy lives, geography and personalities made them itch for a less binding agreement.

The rawness they needed to feel when being together was the bigger draw and they paid every price to keep coming back to each other.

His mouth was drawn to her skin as her hips moved up and down along his cock. She circled and dipped as she had on his mouth. His hands gripped her hips as she bounced and arched her back. The hand she placed on his shoulder for balance travelled to her face and she closed her eyes as she extended her elbow toward the ceiling.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growled as he shoved his hips up.

Gillian cried out at the contact and he did it again. He was pulling her hips as she came down and she felt the pang of discomfort wash through her. It always felt good when he made it hurt a little bit.

“I’m getting close,” he told her.

Her hips moved faster and she opened her eyes to watch as his own release pushed through and emptied inside of her. They panted together as their euphoria quelled and reality reminded them where they were. Her eyes were transfixed on the tattoo on his finger as his hand rested on her shoulder.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m always going to be your mistress, aren’t I?” she noted as she pulled herself off his lap.

“It was your idea to keep this out of the press,” he reminded her as he followed her into the bathroom. “You had a chance to be straightforward many times.”

“Every time I put an element of my private life in the public eye, it’s wrecked,” she replied as she cleaned herself. “Those pictures during Streetcar this year were just one example.”

“You don’t think we can take the scrutiny,” he challenged as he wiped their fluids from his member. He tossed the tissue into the waste bin and shook his head. “You’re a coward.”

“Takes one to know one,” she called after him.

Maybe he was right. She had been afraid to make any kind of statement when things first began with them again because she was a terrible liar. How do you confess to the world you’ve been sleeping with a man through every relationship you’ve both had for twenty years? It would hurt too many people. He wasn’t divorced. She had just separated from the father of her children.

Then it became his worry that people would discover their dirty secrets but he was adamant about saying nothing over lying. Friends and family knew what they were, so who cares about the perception in Hollywood?

Her appearance at his concert confirmed the world was not ready for them to be an official item. The hacked pictures during her Streetcar run from a dear friend solidified that. No one needed to know anything but she still felt tired of hiding.

She walked through her closet to find her robe and as she passed the mirror in her closet she saw the marks he had left. There were dinners and events she was expected to be at. She had dresses picked out and none of them would allow for her to show up looking like she spent the weekend in bed with a man who couldn’t control how hard he bit her.

She stormed into the bedroom with her robe in hand.

“What the fuck is this?” she asked as she pointed at the teeth marks and abrasions he left along her skin.

His eyes looked up from her bare chest and to the small mark on her cleavage.

“Oh…that,” he said from his seat on the bed. “A calling card?”

“What are you, Kinickey? Fuck you,” she admonished and threw a pillow at his face. Of course, he caught it and put it behind his head. She dabbed at her skin as though it might clear the bruise away.

“I need a minimum of fifteen minutes of refractory time,” he quipped and he glanced over to the clock. “It’s only been seven.”

He pulled her towards him and he flipped her under his body on the bed. She let out a squeal that turned into a giggle and she realized she wasn’t as angry as she was trying to be.

He kissed where he had marked and laid his cheek on her chest. “I just want you to think of me when we’re not together.”

“I do think of you when we’re not together,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair.

She noted it was getting longer again. He wasn’t returning to work on Aquarius so he was letting it grow to maintain some rock star appearance.

“I don’t like sharing you,” he told her. “But I’m willing to do that if that’s what you need to be happy.”

“Am I sharing you?” she asked.

“I’d rather it be exclusive. I feel better when it’s just us,” he told her. He kissed her belly and his cheek brushed next to her sex. “I want you to think about me when you’re touching yourself too.”

“I don’t want to be shared,” she admitted. “This thing probably won’t lead anywhere. It never does. They can always tell I like you more than them.”

“Good.”

She pulled her head off the mattress and looked to where he had kissed. She would try coconut oil to make the marks heal faster before she returned to the U.K.

“Tell me you’re not mad,” he urged as two fingers slipped inside of her again.

She moaned at the contact. “No.”

His middle finger brushed at the front wall of her core and she felt herself shiver. He knew the spot well.

“No, you’re mad or no, don’t touch you?”

“I’m mad,” she moaned but that was half a lie.

They could make these mistakes of miscommunication with each other again and they wouldn’t label what they were that weekend. The term “adult friend” blanketed all manner of sins they could commit with their bodies since they couldn’t solidify what they were.

“Let me make it up to you for the next seven minutes,” he whispered against her skin and his fingers pushed inside her again. “Let me love you a little more. I’ll argue my case for the other five hundred thousand reasons. Don’t give up on what we’re doing while it feels good.”

Her legs spread for him and she let her body fall over into pleasure from frustration again. Her cries out to God could be heard down to the fireplace where her dog slept and her determination to end things had begun. It always came back to them in bed and the lack of conviction to stay apart.

They wouldn’t solve anything that weekend. They wouldn’t solve anything again in New York or when she left for London. Things would stay open between them but he would call more frequently to keep feelings saved and his place secured. She appreciated that much and tried to be less stubborn.

It was only a matter of time before contracts called them to different places and the world tried to give them another million reasons to stop. They had this time together to prove they had a million reasons to stay together.

 


End file.
